


A Long and Winding Path

by JustAPassingGlance



Series: Your Words Into Mine (Prompted Works) [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:16:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the recently widowed Mrs. Anderson had first come to work for them as Sebastian’s governess, Blaine had been a squalling, ruddy-faced infant. Immediately, Sebastian had taken it upon himself to be Blaine's protector, even as their relationship changed over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long and Winding Path

**Author's Note:**

> Historical AU set in the world of Downton Abbey.   
> For the anon prompt of an AU verse of my choosing.

When the recently widowed Mrs. Anderson had first come to work for them as Sebastian’s governess, Blaine had been a squalling, ruddy-faced infant. Having only recently turned 3 himself, Sebastian hadn’t known what to make of it, but he did desperately hate the awful squawking that sometimes took over the house. It was his job to demand everyone else’s attention and he resented the fact that something was trying (and succeeding) in usurping him in that

Therefore, he logically had two choices. The first was to wait and hope that it would just disappear, which so far had proven to be futile and he really didn’t have the patience for that much longer. The second was to take care of the problem himself. If he somehow managed to keep it quiet, everyone would forget it existed and once again all the attention would be his.

So he made sure to always stay by the crying bundle’s (called a Blaine, according to Mrs. Anderson) side. Singing to it when it got fussy, or letting it slobber all over his fingers. For anyone else to so much as touch it lead to a temper tantrum that only served to rile them both up.  
  
Everyone, except Lord Smythe, thought it precious beyond words and thus, not only did he recapture everyone’s attention, he gained even more whenever the Blaine was around. He wasn’t sure what it was about the wailing, squirming mass that garnered him the extra attention, but as Mrs. Anderson and Bryant were always saying, never look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn’t know what a gift horse was or why you shouldn’t look it in the mouth, but he did know what it really meant was ‘don’t ask question when things just happen to be going your way.’  
  
Eventually Blaine started walking and talking and Sebastian came to the realization that a Blaine wasn’t an  _it_  so much as a  _he_  and somehow that was even better. Sebastian had lots of things already. Rooms and rooms full of things and he’d much rather have a person that was his than yet another boring old thing.  
  
Lady Smythe encouraged their interaction. She had been unable to bear other children and it was good for Sebastian to have someone his own age. Lord Smythe begrudgingly allowed it. There was no point in going against his wife on such matters and at least Mr. Anderson had been a reasonably educated man. That had to put ‘that Blaine boy’ above the hooligans who lived in the village whose parents could barely scrawl their own names.  
  
So the two grew up together and Sebastian continued to take his job as Blaine’s protector very seriously. Once, he found Blaine crying out in the garden and forced him to tell him what was wrong. Some of the local boys had taken to bullying him; taunting him as he walked through town and tugging on his, admittedly ridiculous, hair.  
  
In retaliation, Sebastain had launched a two week campaign to get the children’s families thrown out of town. When that didn’t work he did some digging of his own and discovered that the father of one of the boys was stealing from the church and another’s mother was secretly meeting with the butcher on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.

He also started to let Blaine borrow that awful gel his mother forced him to put in his hair on special occasions.  
  
The only time he had ever failed in his duties was when Blaine was 9 and his mother fell sick. He tried everything; he paid the doctor extra, snuck into their rooms late at night and sat with them till morning, convinced the cook to make her special soup like she always did for him when he wasn’t well, he even tried praying, but all to no avail. Mrs. Anderson got sicker and sicker and Blaine became sadder and sadder until one day he wouldn’t stop crying and Reid had to pull Sebastian aside and tell him that his governess was in a better place now.  
  
All he could do was make his mother promise that Blaine would always have a home there.  She tried to explain the expenses involved and he refused to listen, saying he would pay for anything Blaine needed out of his own pocket, even if he had to sell everything he owned. So Blaine stayed, helping out the cook or the gardener, depending on who needed him more, with the vague allusion that should there be an opening when he was older, he could become a footman.

*

It was when Sebastian was 14 that things started to change. Blaine went from being just Blaine to being pretty much all he thought about. The way his hair curled at the nape of his neck, the color of his eyes as they caught the sunlight. The way his lips curved up in a smile. Even though he spent most of his time away at school, he wrote his friend weekly and thought about him more than daily.  
  
That summer, as they chased after the dogs on one of Blaine’s days off, Sebastian kissed him and, after a moment of stunned confusion, Blaine kissed back. They kept it to just kissing. Blaine knew little about sex other than the mumbled whisperings everyone tried their hardest not to let him overhear and Sebastian had to admit he didn’t know too much himself.  
  
Besides, Sebastian wasn’t entirely positive how much he  _liked_ Blaine. He knew he loved him. Knew he would do absolutely anything for him and that he couldn’t picture a future without Blaine by his side. But he couldn’t quite reconcile the scrawny pre-pubescent limbs of his childhood friend with the muscled bodies he lusted after in his nightly fantasies.  
  
When he returned to Eton he was quite the favorite amongst the older boys. There was something about his attitude (and probably his money) that attracted him to them. Fervently he accepted their fumbling fingers and listened as they hissed at him what to do with his tongue.  
  
Somehow all the boys became Blaine. Blaine’s skin against his, Blaine’s moan in his ears. No matter what color hair they had, the moment he let his eyelids flutter closed the strands beneath his fingers suddenly darkened and curled.  
  
He didn’t stop, although sometimes he thought he should. He liked the way it felt, even if it was the wrong person making him feel that way.  
  
In some perverse attempt at an apology he wrote Blaine about all of his encounters. Always separate from his normal missives and he never asked why he didn’t get a response. But still he felt the need to keep his oldest friend informed.  
  
His arrival back home for the holidays wasn’t the joyous affair it normally was. Blaine could barely look at him and seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him. Even worse, Blaine somehow managed to get Reid to vigilantly patrol the hallways at night and, while he could ignore the polite suggestion that maybe he took a wrong turn on his way to his own room that the butler offered him with raised brows, the message was more than clear.

It was, to date, the most depressing Christmas he had ever experienced.

That summer he convinced his family they should take a trip to the continent. Although he had made the Atlantic crossing several times, he had never even seen his mother’s native France which was, according to his French Master, positively shameful. What would the dons of Oxford have to say if they knew how ill-travelled he was?

He loved every minute of it. Even being constantly coddled by an array of over-bearing aunts he had never met more than once in his life hadn’t put a damper on the experience. He had never seen how one could be content to spend their entire lives sat at home staring at the same landscape year after year.

But he missed Blaine. A lot.

He found himself wondering what Blaine was doing with his sudden influx of spare time. He found himself wanting to be back in England and doing whatever it was with him. Playing with the dogs, maybe. Or reading in the library.

Every day he wrote him. Each letter was kept secured within the confines of his leather journal. He had no intention of sending them. Blaine had made it more than clear he no longer wanted anything to do with him.

*

In November, much to the dismay of his mother, he started making plans to spend the holidays in Drummond with some cousins. He knew he couldn’t avoid home forever, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

Two weeks after, he received a short note written on rough parchment in a familiar, untidy script.   
  
 _ ~~Please come home.~~  _  
 _You should be home for the holidays._  
 ~~ _I miss you._~~  
 _-B_

Promptly he cancelled his original plans.

It was awkward. They danced around each other and tried to act as though nothing had happened but could never quite meet the other’s eyes. And suddenly Blaine had a lot of work to be doing in preparation for the holiday festivities (more so than anyone else) and Sebastian became inexplicably interested in the managing of the estate.

But in the middle of the Servant’s Ball the two of them unsteadily wobbled their way into a private corner of the library and Blaine gently pushed him up against a bookcase before brushing their lips together and Sebastian’s heart somehow couldn’t quite decide if it wanted to explode out of his chest or cease beating altogether.

 *

Summertime was Sebastian’s favorite time of the year. The days were long and when no one was around he shamelessly shed his stifling layers to splash through the stream that ran through the eastern end of their property. He particularly liked fucking into Blaine on the banks of said stream and laughing when he tried to sneak back into the house only to be scolded by his muddied appearance.  
  
It wasn’t that Sebastian didn’t value discretion. He could be very, very discreet when he needed to be. It wasn’t a need that struck him very frequently, however. Discretion was such an unnecessary caution that only served to limit him.  
  
His relationship with Blaine was probably the worst kept secret in the house. Everyone from the kitchen maids to the gardener to Reid had come across them in a compromising position at one point or another. The only people who seem to be completely oblivious to it were the Lord and Lady Smythe and the entire staff worked very hard to keep it that way.

*

"May I be frank with you, sir?" Bryant asked one afternoon, looking more serious than she had since Sebastian was a mischievous child and accidentally breaking priceless heirlooms. "It concerns Blaine."  
  
"Please," he closed his book and waved his hand in invitation. He had known Bryant his entire life, as his mother’s lady’s maid it had often fallen on her to take care of him when Mrs. Anderson was not around and Lady Smythe couldn’t be bothered to fulfil her matronly duties. She had always been honest with him and he had great respect for her because of it.    
  
"You know the rules are different for the two of you, sir. Even though you were brought up together. He isn’t like you."  
  
"Of course I know that." It was a lesson he had learnt the hard way when only he was being packed up for Eton and one he had continued to be reminded of every time he sat down to eat and Blaine was serving him instead of joining them.  
  
"What you two do," Bryant nearly managed to hide her disapproving scowl, "is punishable by law. One can, theoretically, of course, be imprisoned for it."  
  
"What, exactly, is your point?" Coming from anyone else it would have sounded like a threat and Sebastian was trying to resist his natural urge to respond to it as such. After Mrs. Anderson had passed, Bryant took it upon herself to raise Blaine and it was inconceivable to even think that she would try and coerce them like that.   
  
"You can understand why that concerns us, I am sure."  
  
"I’m not about to be hauled off to jail anytime soon," Sebastian assured him. "Especially not for something everyone else does."  
  
"Everyone at Eton, perhaps. But elsewhere such a  _practice_  is much less accepted.”  
  
"I am-"  
  
"Our concern is less for you than for Blaine, sir. Your position in the community would, undoubtedly, protect you. He does not have the same luxury."  
  
"He has me."  
  
"And when word got back to your father? Would he put your request over the family name?"  
  
Sebastian knew he wouldn’t. Nothing was more important to his father than upholding their name. He wasn’t even sure he would be safe from his father’s wrath in that case.   
  
"Why is this a concern now?"  
  
"I thought you might be more inclined to listen than he is. I have tried, for years, to explain this all to him and yet…" she sighed. "You know your cousin is living here, while her father is stationed in Africa. We’re concerned about what they might find out and report back to her. And if not through her…”

She didn’t need to say more. Staff changed and even if they were to be more careful in future, people talked. Word would get out sooner or later and if he couldn’t bribe his way out of it Blaine would be thrown into jail quicker than he could blink and, if his father had his way, he’d be left there to rot.

“I understand.”

*

“You know I care for you,” Sebastian said. His parents were both gone for the week and the majority of the staff had been given the time off. He had convinced Blaine to sneak away to spend the night with him and given his own valet the morning off so they wouldn’t be disturbed. They had done it a couple of times before and, although sleeping with someone else was unfamiliar to him, he couldn’t deny there was something about it that he found appealing.

Blaine twisted so he could peer up into Sebastian’s face. “Was it meant to be a secret? I think everyone figured that out when you punched McGinnis in the face for accidentally knocking me over at the fair.”

“I’m still not entirely convinced he didn’t mean it,” he huffed.

“I had only just learned how to walk. A strong wind would have had the same effect.”

They lapsed into silence and Bryant’s words echoed in his head again. He knew what he had to say, he just didn’t want to say it.

“We should run away,” he said instead.

“Where to this time?” Blaine asked with a smile. As children they had made many elaborate plans to just take off into the night. “I’m sure the continent would bore you now that you’re such an experienced traveller. India? Or Australia!  Isn’t that where you always threatened to go when you didn’t want to do your reading?” Playfully he jostled their shoulders together.

Happily he continued to outline their future life exploring the globe until Sebastian cut him off with an abrupt, “Bryant talked to me. About you.”

“If it was about the silverware, I already told her-” His mouth dropped open in comprehension. “You agree with her?” He asked quietly.

“You know I do.” They told each other everything and always had. He was sure this had been on Blaine’s mind and he had kept it to himself for a reason. “We can’t risk… that.”

“It’s worth it.”

“No,” Sebastian said fiercely, tightening his grip as he felt Blaine start to curl in on himself. “Nothing is worth- you can’t be-” His blood ran cold at the mere thought of it. “Besides, my mother would kill me.  _Your_  mother would kill me.”

Blaine’s face fell. The only person he loved more than Sebastian was his mother and he knew his friend was right. She had worked so hard to provide for him while she was still alive and the Smythe’s had been so good to him his entire life and it would be a poor way to repay their kindness by dragging their name through the mud with such a scandal.

“I don’t think I could stay.”

Of all the ways Sebastian had imagined this conversation going, that had not been one of them.

"Where would you go?" He didn’t even try and keep his voice steady.   
  
Blaine shrugged. “America?”  
  
"There’s an option."  
  
"There was a girl who worked here for a while, Rachel. She’s a kitchen maid up at Downton now. She says the heir is planning a trip to America. On the Titanic. Can you even imagine, Seb? She heard Lord Crawley say he didn’t know if they had the staff to spare to go with him. That maybe they’d be looking for someone. Reid’s taught me a lot already. I might not be ready to valet a big house like this yet, but I could do it just for the voyage. And either stay with him until he’s ready to return or find a new job straight away."  
  
Sebastian pictured Blaine in another house’s livery and setting sail for another continent. Away from him.  
  
"They’d be foolish not to take you. I’m sure Maman herself would write your reference. That would definitely increase your chances." He didn’t want to know why Blaine seemed to have this so elaborately planned already. Had he been planning on leaving anyway? Or was it just another of his fanciful imaginings?  
  
"It was just a thought. I don’t even know if they’re looking."

“Maybe we could go together?” Now that the idea of their running away was in his mind he couldn’t seem to shake it. “If they aren’t.”

“You have duties here.” Blaine sighed and played with Sebastian’s fingers, tracing over each before tickling the inside of his palm.

“There are always cousins.”

“Maybe.” He could hear the tight smile in Blaine’s voice and knew that he didn’t like the idea, would probably even fight it if he tried to push it. Blaine knew what his future meant to him and his family and knew how much Sebastian’s would regret such a reckless decision. If not immediately then certainly a few years down the line.

“Doesn’t Cooper live in California? You could find him?” Cooper had only ever been talked about in whispers. Blaine’s older brother who had been shipped off to family friends in America because Mrs. Anderson couldn’t afford to raise two boys on her own.

“He does.” The terse reply made it obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“May I come visit you?”

“With your future wife and children? The whole gaggle of you invading my quaint Californian house?”

“Or I could leave them at home. I have a feeling I might have some business out that way,” his lips curled up in a smile and he rolled over to trap Blaine’s body below his.

“You’re going to be a working man?” He snorted.

“I could become one. Go into something horribly trite. What do they do out in California?” He snapped his fingers, “I’ll open a winery.”

“I never pictured a future without you, you know.”

Sebastian bit back the reply that that future didn’t have to exist; that Blaine was the one leaving, not him. Just because they couldn’t be  _together_  didn’t mean they couldn’t be together. Blaine could become his valet, or take over for Reid once he retired. And maybe it wouldn’t be a fair life for him to lead, but it wasn’t like Sebastian would be much better off. Shackled to some woman he had no real interest in.

“My first memory is of you. You were trying to teach me about trains and you had the biggest grin on your face. And I kept looking at your face instead of the book.”

“I was annoyed because you weren’t paying attention to all the wisdom I was trying to impart onto you.”

“Can’t we go back to that?”

Snatching the blanket, Sebastian hopped out of bed and spread it on the ground before rummaging through the trunk that contained his childhood mementos. Catching on, Blaine eagerly scrambled off the bed and curled up on the floor, Sebastian worming his way next to him and opening the tome he had insisted on toting around with him for months. He hadn’t actually been able to read most of it at the time, but had authoritatively made up stories about all the pictures.

He pointed down at the page. “This is the first steam locomotive…”


End file.
